01
The third day of the third lunar month is Mother's Day in the underworld.
Every ghost mother gets one chance to enter a raffle.
I casually drew a stick from the raffle tube. Unlike the others, mine had a gold ring around its end.
The gold card was the grand prize. There was only one, and it could be exchanged for a three-day trip to the living world.
The ghost mothers around me were green with envy. When a young mother who had only recently arrived in the underworld saw me win the grand prize, she let out a heartbroken cry and fainted.
I felt a little guilty. If the underworld didn't have a rule against transferring prizes, I really would have liked to give her the gold card.
I had a child in the living world, too.
His name was Tống Lưu Nhi. When I was alive, I hardly spent any time with him. Now that I was dead, it seemed I didn't really want to see him again, either.
A little sunshine from the living world might do me good, I told myself, rallying my spirits.
Under the expectant gazes of the other ghosts, I returned to the living world.
The token I carried could pinpoint Tống Lưu Nhi's location. A moment later, I was standing beside him.
He was wearing the blue uniform of a food-delivery worker and carrying a heavy bag of takeout containers. Through the clear plastic, I could see that grease from the soup had spilled out.
The bag must have been too heavy. Tống Lưu Nhi nearly lost his grip, and his body staggered.
“Careful!” I blurted out.
Without changing expression, Tống Lưu Nhi walked past me, then stopped in front of a security door and knocked a few times.
The man who opened the door was tall and burly.
“Sir, some of your fish soup spilled. If you don't mind—”
Before Tống Lưu Nhi could finish, the man impatiently cut him off. “Are you stupid? I waited forever, and now you've spilled the soup. How am I supposed to eat this?”
Tống Lưu Nhi lowered his eyes and stared at the order on the food bag for a moment.
I glanced over. The order was worth 78 yuan.
“Then I'll pay you back.”
The man began looking Tống Lưu Nhi up and down, his gaze blatant and ill-intentioned:
“Why don't you come inside and sit for a while? Then you won't have to pay me back.”
Tống Lưu Nhi ignored him and took out his phone. “I'll transfer the money to you.”
The man took the money grudgingly. As he shut the door, he deliberately shoved Tống Lưu Nhi, making him stumble. The food containers hit the ground with a smack.
“How can you bully someone like that?!” I shouted at the house.
Tống Lưu Nhi bent down to pick up the food containers. Hot soup spilled onto his hand, and the back of it immediately turned bright red.
I sighed, wanting to say something, but it seemed Tống Lưu Nhi and I had become strangers.
Even though he couldn't see or hear me, I still didn't know what to say to him.
He wiped the grease off the ground and didn't throw away the fish soup. After leaving the residential complex, he chose a stone step and sat down, holding the half-full takeout container as he ate.
I sat beside him, a little surprised. “Don't you hate fish?”
It was one of the few things I still remembered about his likes and dislikes.
And yet now he was devouring the fish soup someone else had refused to take.
It felt as if someone had stabbed me in the heart.
Late that night, after his shift, Tống Lưu Nhi parked his electric scooter beneath the building I had bought when I was alive.
My death had come so suddenly that I hadn't had time to leave a will. But he was my only son, so he should have inherited the apartment and my savings.
But if he'd really inherited them, why wasn't he going to school? Why did he have to deliver food?
He went upstairs but didn't go inside.
He leaned against the door and slowly sat down. He seemed utterly exhausted, and before long his breathing had settled into a slow, somewhat heavy rhythm.
He had fallen asleep outside the door.
I studied his sleeping face. He'd been only fifteen when I died. Now he was nineteen.
02
Four years earlier, he had slept outside my door just like this.
That night, I had just stepped out of the elevator when I caught sight of a figure huddled outside my door. I stopped short.
Tống Lưu Nhi was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up, his head against the corner of the wall, fast asleep.
He was wearing black clothes and a black hat. His exposed skin was startlingly pale, and he clutched the handle of the rolling suitcase beside him.
A growing boy with long limbs, curled up in a corner—he looked so miserable and pitiful.
I crept over and crouched down, intending to run my hand over his messy black hair. But halfway through lifting my hand, I came to my senses and quickly pulled it back.
We were too much like strangers. Even a gesture of affection like that felt out of place.
I'd never video-called him. From the moment he was born, I'd sent him to the countryside to be raised by my older brother, Tống Lượng. I'd hardly ever gone back to visit him, sending only a little money for holidays.
In my mind, the image of his face was as vague as a reflection on water.
I watched him quietly for a while. As if possessed, I took out my phone and snapped a few pictures, then gently nudged him.
Tống Lưu Nhi opened his eyes, still damp and bleary from sleep. He stared blankly for a moment, then rasped, “Mom.”
“When did you get here? Why didn't you come in?”
As I spoke, I unlocked the door with my fingerprint. “You've been here before, haven't you? Did you forget the passcode?”
“I didn't forget. I just... didn't want to be a bother.”
I stopped with my hand on the door and turned to look at him. The boy was now taller than I was in high heels; I had to tilt my head back to see his face.
It was as if there were so many things I wanted to explain, yet I didn't know where to begin. After a while, all I managed to say was, “This is your home.”
Tống Lưu Nhi said nothing.
“Did you come alone? Does your uncle know?”
“Yes. I left a letter for him.”
Once we were inside, I bent down to find him some slippers. I was used to living alone, and there wasn't a pair of men's slippers in the house, so I put a new pair of women's slippers in front of him.
“These will have to do for now.”
Tống Lưu Nhi put them on, his heels sticking out over the back.
“They're a little tight.” He curled his toes.
“I'll buy you a new pair tomorrow.”
Tống Lưu Nhi gave a soft reply.
There wasn't a room of his own, so I fixed up the living room for him to sleep in. As I made the bed, I glanced at him. “Why... did you suddenly want to come here?”
Tống Lưu Nhi crouched beside me and rearranged his suitcase. “Lately, Mom... you haven't replied to many of my messages.”
I was at a loss for words, and hurried to make an excuse. “I've been so busy, I forgot. I thought I'd already replied.”
Tống Lưu Nhi nodded slightly, his voice edged with self-mockery. “I figured as much.”
The awkward silence made me want to lighten the mood. “I’ll take you out for the next few days. Then, when school starts, I’ll take you back…”
“Mom.”
Tống Lưu Nhi cut me off, lifting his cap slightly. “I don’t want to go back.”
I froze, confused. “Why don’t you want to go back? Did someone say something to you…?”
Tống Lưu Nhi shook his head. His clear black-and-white eyes held a reckless, hopeful look.
“Mom, I want to stay with you… Is that okay?”
I stood there in silence for a long time. All this while, I’d thought keeping our distance was best for both of us—we didn’t need to see each other or stay in touch. It was enough just to know he was healthy. I couldn’t give him anything more than that…
In the silence, Tống Lưu Nhi seemed to sense my hesitation. He swallowed hard.
“It doesn’t have to be here… Anywhere is fine.”
I tried to keep my expression calm. “I’ve made up the bed. You can stay here for now. Let me know if you need anything.”
I turned to leave, but Tống Lưu Nhi called after me. “Mom.”
I turned to look at him.
“It’s nothing.” Tống Lưu Nhi gave a soft laugh. “I just wanted to call you Mom.”
I practically ran away.
After Tống Lưu Nhi arrived, I used work as an excuse every day to leave early and come home late.
The truth was, I wasn’t that busy. I just didn’t know how to face him.
My son and I were like strangers who shared blood. Even living under the same roof, we couldn’t seem to form the slightest bond.
A week later, as usual, I came home late at night. I turned on the entryway light and looked up to see Tống Lưu Nhi sitting at the dining table, waiting for me.
For the past few days, he’d probably realized I was avoiding him. Every night when I came home, he’d already gone to bed. But not tonight.
He hadn’t turned on the lights. He sat alone and quiet in the dining room, with a small cake box in front of him.
When Tống Lưu Nhi saw me come in, a rare, faint smile appeared on his face.
He hardly ever smiled. We didn’t see each other often, and whenever we did, I was always cold toward him. Of course he couldn’t bring himself to smile.
He pushed the cake box toward me, his eyes shining.
“Mom, it’s my birthday today.”
I stiffened for a moment. I didn’t remember his birthday, nor did I want to. He’d been born out of sin and curses.
It wasn’t a day worth remembering.
I rubbed my forehead and stiffly said, “Happy birthday.”
Maybe because the dining room was dark, his face looked a little lonely.
“Mom, will you grant me a birthday wish?”
I frowned. His arrival had completely upended my thoughts and my life. Just seeing him made me think of that bastard, and the home that had once been warm no longer felt like a place I wanted to return to.
Sometimes I thought, if he knew his own past, knew he was the son of a rapist, why couldn’t he be a little more understanding? Why couldn’t he stay away from me? Did he really expect me—a victim—to give him even the slightest bit of affection?
My body had been too weak back then. I couldn’t even have an abortion. Otherwise, I never would have given birth to him. For both of us, it had been a torment.
I knew it couldn’t have been easy for him, either.
If even his own mother didn’t like him or protect him, who would care about him?
So when he was born, I named him Lưu Nhi.
Lưu Nhi—the child who should have been abandoned.
He’d grown up in the mud, yet still dared to hope I’d stay with him for his birthday and grant him a birthday wish. It was laughable.
The anxiety of the past few days had left me irritable. “If you want something, go buy it yourself. I’ll pay for it.”
I didn’t look at his reaction. As soon as I’d said it, I turned and went into the bathroom.
I soaked in the bathtub for over an hour. As the water gradually cooled, my mind began to settle, too.
Had I been too harsh with him? He’d had no parents by his side since he was little and had lived in other people’s homes. All he wanted was to spend his birthday with his mother.
He hadn’t done anything wrong.
But what had I done wrong when Tần Đại Quý raped me all those years ago? I wasn’t even grown up yet.
It felt like two little people inside me were arguing without end. One urged me to try to get close to him, to accept him; the other egged me on to hate and resent him.
I angrily sank back into the tub and lingered another half hour before finally getting up.
I could only hope Tống Lưu Nhi would hurry back to his room. I wanted even less to face him right then.
As soon as I opened the door, a dark figure rushed toward me. Before I could react, someone had gently wrapped their arms around me.
An unfamiliar breath reached my nose, and my mind went blank.
Tống Lưu Nhi buried his face in my shoulder. His embrace was awkward and damp, and my whole body went rigid.
He said nothing, and neither did I. I stood still and let him hold me.
A long while later, he finally spoke in a hoarse voice. “Mom, I’ll leave tomorrow.”
I answered with a quiet “Mm.”
When he let go of me, he hesitated for a moment, as if reluctant, but in the end he made himself release me.
He patted my shoulder with a world-weary air. His lips moved, but he said nothing more.
He went to his room. As he closed the door, he turned his back to me, so I couldn’t see his expression.
“My birthday wish was just to hug you once.”
That night, I stood outside the bathroom door for a long time.